


I Took A Trip To The Year ****

by kawaiipose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 1990s! adam, 1990s! allura, 1990s! keith, 1990s! lotor, 1990s! matt, 1990s! nyma, 1990s! pidge, 1990s! rolo, 1990s! shiro, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), HE/HIM pronouns pidge, M/M, MEANT TO FIT THE TIMES OK, THIS WILL PROBABLY NEVER BE FINISHED IM SORRY, USES SOME MILD GAY SLANG, assistant! adam, closeted!hatt, closeted!shadam, cop! hunk, cop! lotor, cop! matt, dont @ me, dysphoric! pidge, ftm pidge, ftm transgender pidge, gamer! pidge, i dont know, kind of good idea?, mad scientist! coran, might me smut scenes, psychic! allura, sheriff! shiro, time traveller! lance, will be fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-04 13:55:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18605896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiipose/pseuds/kawaiipose
Summary: "Dear Keith,When you read this, I’ll already be gone. Not for long, I promise. But I’m going to tell my family... everything. And in order to do that, I need to tell you everything, too."... Lance was born just like every other kid in his family... Cuban, loud, freckled... your average McClain. Until Lance starts to see visions of things he shouldn't know and things that didn't occur but possibly might in the future. He starts to wake up and finds himself repeating days that had already passed. Then his Mum mysteriously dies and he can time travel into the past, and life is the perfect mix of giddy happiness and crushing sadness. then he gets stuck in 1991 and falls for a Mullet-wearing bad boy that helps him more than he ever expected.





	1. prologue

_Dear Keith,_

_When you read this, I’ll already be gone. Not for long, I promise. But I’m going to tell my family... everything. And in order to do that, I need to tell you everything, too._

_I’m a time traveller. I think you’ve suspected, and you’ll probably hate me when I get back home because I’ve been kinda lying to you for months and months. But understand this – I really love you. And, fuck, I didn’t MEAN to. These things just happen. I wasn’t meant to get stuck in 1991, but I did. I wasn’t meant to fall for the stupid mullet head that kinda contributed to me getting stuck here but, again, I did._

_I have to make things right, though. For too long I’ve been the anti-hero – the Venom of my life. I lied about my sexuality, I lied about my powers, I lied about my life to everybody and I didn’t help the people that needed my help. But hey, what’s new. I’ve always been a liar. I don’t wanna get hurt._

_But I’m willing to this time. To save my planet._

_And you._

_If I’m being 100% honest, love, this is only for you._

_Its only ever for you._

_Please understand. I love you more than time, more than anything._

_Keith Kogane I fucking LOVE you, okay?! So please forgive me for this, for everything. I know it’s a big ask but you’re everything to me. For once, I want to stay. In the past. In the same spot for more than a second. Committed. Keith, I want to stay in love. And I want to stay with you._

_I love you. Stay safe. I’ll be back 5:00pm latest. If you don’t want me to stay, leave me a note and lock the door._

_I know I’ve already said it many times now but I love you._

_I love you I love you I love you._

_Okay I’ll stop._

_Hehe._

_Lance <3_


	2. a gift and a curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's life with The Gift.

When Lance was five, he saw rainbows.

It was his reflection, his usual crazy hair and freckled nose and toothy grin. But his blue eyes weren’t blue. They were reflecting rainbows into the mirror, sparkling and swirling and making him giggle.

He squealed out to his mother. He doesn’t remember her words, but he does remember her understanding, almost sad, smile.

~

When Lance was seven, he wakes up screaming.

Explosions still shattered under his eyelashes, nuclear puffs and a town brought to ash. He cries into his mother’s shirt as she sings Spanish lullabies and runs her hands through his curling hair. She whispered ‘the past is the past’ over and over in his ear as he dozed off, and Lance thought he believed her words.

~

When Lance was nine, he has a vision of soft black hair and a rumbling motorcycle.

He had giggled into his pillow, and when his mother and sister found him smiling giddily at the ceiling, his mother asked “was the future promising?”

Lance had giggled some more and Veronica grumbles about how the two of them are totally and utterly crazy.

~

When Lance is nine and three months, he repeats a Thursday.

He wakes up with a headache. He hears his sister calling out that she needs to get early to school to study. His mum is calling him for breakfast. His dog is barking at a bird perched on a tree outside his window.

He knows this day.

It happened the day before.

He stumbles through the day with a splitting headache and tries to smile and act the way he normally does. He’s terrified he will slip up and the world around him will crumble like the cocoon of an escaping butterfly. His mother did warn him about something to do with butterflies and waking up in a different world.

He goes to sleep and wakes up. Its Saturday.

His sister hugs him. He’s been missing for one day, she says. There are waffles and chocolate milk awaiting him on the bench. So is his mother. Her smile is sad... understanding.

Lance doesn’t understand, but at the time he wasn’t one to question.

~

When Lance is twelve, he sees the world ending.

It’s beautiful and slow and everyone’s shrieking and the world he doesn’t remember or understand is falling apart. So are the people. Melting, in the heat of the sun, the sun, Sol, the one in the sky, the one that’s exploding.

Lance vomits from the intense heat burning his back.

He barely makes it back to his timeline, burnt to a crisp, heaving heavy breaths and screaming for the only person he knows can help him.

He has heat stroke for 2 agonising weeks.

His mum is there with a bucket, a towel and an IV drip.

~

When Lance is seventeen, he serves for a busy diner in New York. It’s 1980 and Lance is tall and lean and tan and beautiful and grown. His freckles dust his cheeks, his hair curls, his eyes shine blue like the ocean, reflecting perfect little rainbows. He’s swift and the best waiter they have, but he leaves after 2 months.

It’s been 2 days for Veronica and his mother.

Lance mastered that – warping time. He hasn’t been to the future since that fateful day. He tries, but it’s out of reach, locked away in a hidden box.

His sister whacks him with her calculus book. His mother laughs.

His sister scowls at her mother, calling her irresponsible. She wasn’t thinking of the consequences.

His mother is wistful for a moment, and Lance watches. He isn’t as submissive as he used to be – he’s learnt through the inconsistencies of time and the questions that bubble and bob around his brain at the sights he’s seen and the wonders he’s faced. He knows his mother is different – he knows something doesn’t add up the way it seemed to when he was young and naïve.

His mother mumbles something about thinking about the consequences more than she should before turning to hand Lance a chocolate milk.

~

When Lance is nineteen, his mother dies.

His sister doesn’t talk. When she tries the words only come out as sobs. Somehow, Lance knows, and he knows he wants to get away, wants to leave this pitiful timeline, he needs to start over.

But he needs to stay more.

They are sorting through her things when he finds a box labelled ‘Lance’ in his mother’s untidy handwriting. It’s unusual but somehow exactly what he was expecting.

He waits till his sister has gone back to her university dorm to open his box in the silence of his bedroom.

There are pictures of a man he knows is his father – he looks exactly like his older brother Luis – he has the McClain nose and the freckles and the bronze skin and the crazy hair. The photo is old and worn, as if it was taken by a Polaroid and then crumpled in someone’s hand. Lance’s father is holding a small baby in his arms. A little girl is mid-run around his feet, and an older boy is holding the baby’s tiny hand and grinning, all teeth and happiness. It’s hard to think _that_ is Luis – he’s happy, _smiling._ Lance has never seen Luis smile. He’s always sad. Always tired.

Under all of the photos is a little parcel. He opens it and pages and pages of lined paper covered in his mum’s scribble fall into his lap.

He reads the top one:

_2005 – Lance is five and his first signs are showing._

_Veronica and Luis don’t have the gift – that I am certain of. They had no signs throughout their younger years. Though they are very gifted: Ronnie is so smart, she’s reading university level stuff and she’s only nine! Luis is fifteen now. He’s very strong despite his slim build. He is intelligent, too, but his real skill is reading people. He will become a detective, that I am sure. I have seen it, after all._

_They’re all so much like you. Lance is the most – he never stops smiling. I have a feeling he will always be this energetic, almost annoyingly so. But that’s how you were. So annoyingly optimistic – but I loved you for it._

_It’s been 5 years since the leap. I wonder if you’re looking for me, Matias. I wonder if the town is. Or have you moved on? Perhaps not, you’ve always been a sentimental bastard._

_Anyway, back onto topic. Lance’s eyes glowed rainbow today! Strange, and nothing you’ve heard of before. I feel happy yet saddened that my youngest is born with the gift of knowledge, the gift that destroyed me, destroyed us. But he is stronger, smarter, happier than me. I see love in his future. Unconventional, sure, but love nonetheless. I love him so much, Matias. But you will always be my favourite._

Lance is crying.

_He did it! He has done the repeat._

The tears fall silently at first.

_He’s seen it, Matias. The end. I wonder if he found it as terrifyingly beautiful as I did. I wonder if he cried._

They flow stronger now, and he heaves in a breath.

_His first job in the past! Probably won’t be his last. A diner, how typically Lance. I think he’s catching on, just as Luis did._

_I don’t want him to, Matias._

_I don’t want him to hate me._

_I don’t want them to leave me._

He’s sobbing now, crying out and screaming because maybe he didn’t know his mother at all.

He’s ripped them all in half. All except one.

_Dear Lance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the shortest chapter! It's more backstory leading to Lance leaving. Please stay patient - I'll update when I can!


	3. nineteen ninety one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> life in nineteen ninety one. lance gets hit by a motorbike. there's fluff and angst at the police station.

 

** OCTOBER 26TH 1991 **

**  (TIMELINE TIME) **

Takashi Shirogane snuggles into his partner’s side. It must look ridiculous, and not just because the two are queers – Takashi was huge and muscular and Adam was all long lean limbs. The thought of the way they must look made Takashi grin through his sleepy daze. Adam grumbles underneath him, something about him being ‘too heavy,’ but Takashi pretends to be completely asleep. He caves and starts laughing when Adam whacks him over and over with a pillow.

“Lay off!” Takashi whines, and Adam grins. The world is blurry without his glasses, but he can just make out the glint of Shiro’s smile. He abides, tossing the pillow aside and reaching swiftly for his glasses. Once fastened to his face, he wriggled out of his partner’s grasp and begins to get dressed into his usual work clothes.

“Leaving me so early, assistant?” Takashi called down the hall, where Adam had left to find his shoes. He returned to the doorway, leaning on it slightly and frowning.

“Sorry, _sir,_ but some of us have to get into the office earlier than the lazy sheriff because he never does his paperwork.”

Takashi laughs. “I’m sorry, love, but I need to sleep in, in order to, you know, awaken my detective mind.”

Adam rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “Whatever you say. Is Keith coming in today?”

Takashi’s face grows solemn at the mention of his adopted brother. “Hm... maybe. Hunk said he will have a chat to him about the importance of school, all that.”

Adam’s frown returns and his eyebrows quirk sympathetically. “He’s really dropping out?”

Takashi nods. “He gets into fights every week. If he doesn’t drop out, they’re going to expel him eventually. He needs to understand that he can’t save everyone.”

Adam pushes off the door frame and reaches down to ruffle Takashi’s hair and kiss him sweetly on the forehead. “I wonder where his hero complex came from, hm?”

As Adam’s walking away, Takashi can’t help but stare. His partner is looking amazing, as always.

“Yeah I wonder,” he mumbles as the door downstairs slams.

~

Keith Kogane glares at his motorbike.

The hunk of metal he’d lovingly named Red three years ago was refusing to start. Keith sighs as he recalls how frequently little hiccups like these would occur when trying to start up the damn thing. He groans, huffing his fringe out of his eyes. He was hoping the ride to the station would go smoothly, but no, of course it couldn’t.

Grabbing his tool kit, he gets to work. By the end, a sheen of sweat covers his forehead, his hands are black with oil and his fringe has been huffed from his eyes countless times.

But at least Red was now fully in motion, rumbling and purring as if she was good as new. Smiling, Keith grabbed his gloves and shoved his tools out of the way. Mounting his bike, he made his way to the station. He rumbled out of his garage and onto the suburban roads. In seconds, he was out on the open road, passing cafes and bakeries and supermarts. The wind in his hair, the coolness on his skin. Riding his motorbike gave him this gut twisting feeling, yet an overall sense of calm. His grin grew as he sped down the road-

There’s a loud crash and Keith flies from his bike. Well, he doesn’t _fly –_ he lands not even a metre away, cursing and inspecting his bleeding elbow, which had softened his fall to the ground. Rubbing his head, he looked up to find a very strange sight in front of him.

Well, not strange as in odd, strange as in _holy heck what is this_ strange.

There was a boy in front of him. A boy his age. His curly brown hair tickled his face and freckles dotted his sharp nose. His blue shirt was torn, exposing a lean, muscular, golden-brown stomach. His eyes were closed, but Keith could see the boy’s eyelashes from his spot – they were brown and thick and he found himself almost jealous because whoever this boy was he was _very attractive._

And then the boy sat up, gasping for air, panting and looking around, seeming dazed.

Then his eyes – a nice but somehow terrifying blue – locked on Keith and his gaze turned from confused to spiteful... angry.

“You!” the boy exclaimed, brows furrowed, pointing and prodding right at Keith’s chest.

Then the boy faints. Again.

** THREE DAYS EARLIER (LANCE TIME) – 2019 **

_Dear Lance._

_You’ve read the papers. You’ve seen the pictures. I knew I was bound to die – it’s happening exactly 13 hours from now, so I’m in no rush._

_Lance, I know you’re probably crying. I know you’ve definitely ripped up the papers. I at least you haven’t ripped the pictures. They’re the only ones I have._

_We have._

_Trust me, Lance. I’ve known you all your life. And I know you can do this. You’ve seen what is to come in the long run. But what about the short run? The innocents? I was always an anti-hero: always one to stand by. But you can’t. You won’t. You’re too good for that. You are a true Acro Iris._

_Ah, Mi Hijo. Many things are to come. Many plans will fail. But believe this – the one you seek will find you in the year that calls. The one you love will return in the time that changed._

_You’re strong. And brave. And the most charming, just like your father. Maybe you can right some wrongs for me. Maybe you can help me, even a little. I know I don’t deserve it._

_But us McClain’s are trained to lie, my boy, so I think you’ll understand more than most._

_I love you, Mi Hijo,_

_-Madre Acro Iris._

Lance had been staring at the letter for 10 minutes.

Maybe 15? He doesn’t know – for the first time in a long time, Lance has lost track of time. He doesn’t understand – for some reason he’d been expecting something at least _helpful,_ but he should’ve guessed his mother would be secretive and mysterious till the very end.

Lance sighs, turning the letter face down and closing his eyes, pressing his palms to his face and lightly scrubbing. If anyone could figure this out, it’s him. He always figures everything out. That’s the way he’s always been. He can do it.

He opened his eyes, and sat up straight in shock.

There, on the back of the paper, in big, chicken scratch handwriting, stood 4 numbers, and 2 smaller words underneath.

**_1991_ **

**_Idaho - October_ **

~

Lance didn’t really think before he made the jump.

Well, he did think enough to pack his money and a change of clothes. He was smart enough to leave his phone and laptop and all that at home. He brought a change of clothes. He was even smart enough to print out a fake license. He packed the letter, his favourite worn-down shoes, a compass – physically, he was ready.

But he didn’t think of a plan, didn’t think of what he would do when he got there. Or even what he was looking for, or, more accurate, who. Right some wrongs? A true Acro Iris? Was his mother on crack?

He tried to crack jokes to keep himself sane, but somehow it made things worse. He felt sick and everything felt out of place, out of sync. Like he wasn’t ready in the slightest.

Because he kind of wasn’t.

But he made the jump anyway.

~

** 1991 (LANCE TIME) OCTOBER. THREE DAYS BEFORE THE MOTORBIKE INCIDENT **

The hotel bed wasn’t bad, but the interior decoration was _disgusting._ So was the shower and the sink, actually – they definitely hadn’t given either a scrub in a while, and mold grew in both. Gagging at the thought of his shower just five minutes before, Lance stood. He had on a crisp blue tee and his oldest jeans and joggers. He knew how time travel worked – no new shoes, no tees for bands that hadn’t emerged yet, no phone and no laptop. He knew how to blend in anywhere, despite how his exotic look made him stick out like a sore thumb. But he managed, like always.

Stepping outside of the dodgy motel, he took his first glance at 1991. Old cars sped past – no teslas, that’s for sure. People walked down the street, laughing and pushing each other closer to the old train tracks that ran right next to the hotel. People’s clothes were less eccentric and outgoing, much more plain and stay-at-home. He wasn’t sure if he liked it yet. Maybe he was being overdramatic.

He shuffled into his room and flopped on the bed. The springs groaned and one stuck painfully into his side but he pretended not to notice. Today was about one thing and one thing only – figuring out his mother’s message.

He grinned. This wouldn’t take long.

** APPROXIMATELY THREE DAYS LATER (LANCE TIME) OCTOBER 1991 **

Well, for a lack of better words, Lance was fucked.

It had been three _days._ Three days of driving and looking and searching and investigated and _nothing. Nothing had happened._ No leads, no answers. Lance was driving himself mad.

Maybe it would be best if he just went home.

He stopped in the middle of the road and closed his eyes, willing his powers from his eyes into his neck and down to the tips of his fingers and the balls of his feet. Feeling the delicious wave of calm wash over him, he was ready.

Ready to return home.

Then there was a screech of tires and everything went black.

~

** 300 METRES DOWN THE ROAD – POLICE DEPT. (TIMELINE TIME) **

“Sir, there’s been reports of a motorbike collision... two people injured and fled the scene, one was seemingly unconscious...”

Takashi fought the urge to look up. He felt eyes on him through the windows of his office: everyone was observing, wanting to see if the rumours were true.

He nodded his head slightly. “None left at the scene, then.”

“No,” Adam replied, his voice in work-mode. Takashi secretly loved how bossy he got at work.

“Then why waste my time, assistant. If there’s nothing at the scene, none seriously injured and – how many witnesses?”

“One,” Adam said through gritted teeth.

Takashi looked up then. His mouth and eyebrows made him seem stern but his eyes gave everything away – his sadness at how they had to treat each other in the workplace, the apologies he was already rehearsing in his head.

“One,” he repeats, his voice deadpanned. “Why must you waste my time?”

Adam’s face contorted, then settled. “Sorry, _sir._ ”

The whole encounter was totally dreadful.

~

Takashi sometimes wishes he could quit his job and move to the countryside with Adam.

That would really get the town talking, but it wouldn’t matter anymore, because he and Adam would be far away from everyone that works to keep them apart. They could have perfect lives, and Takashi could sleep in and cuddle his partner every day for as long as he pleased.

There would be some downsides – he would rarely see his brother and he’d have to quit the job he loved, but it wouldn’t matter because he would have Adam all to himself for more than just a few hours during the night.

~

“I’m telling you there’s an anomaly in our town and you won’t do _anything?!”_

Allura Altea sat fidgeting in an uncomfortable chair next to her husband’s little desk. Her husband, Lotor, smiled sadly at his wife, tucking a wisp of silvery brown hair behind his ear. Both Allura and Lotor both seemed to be growing white hairs at such a young age – Allura’s big black curls had little patches of silvery-white just like her husband. When people see them walk down the street they snicker and make comments about how their unusual features must be because they are foreigners.

Hunk Garret and Matt Holt both moved from behind their desks to sit on opposite sides of Allura. The two were best friends and always loved to get in the middle of everyone’s business. One never went anywhere without the other. It was a bit queer, honestly. But Allura and Lotor didn’t mind, anyway – if they did love each other that way, it was their business, not theirs.

“Lotor, you’ve known me since we were 0 years old! You know I can... predict things. I have a power, and you know it! I’m telling you, _something is”-_

“would you shut your trap, woman?!” some old guy yelled from his desk. Other older officers nodded and grunted in agreement. Allura rolled her eyes and Matt snorted.

“Lura in trouble? How unpredictable,” Matt cooed. Hunk and Lotor snorted and Allura just crossed her arms, glaring daggers at her husband.

“Look, Allura, I know very well you have predictions that always come true, and believe me, I _am_ taking this seriously. But others in this station aren’t as... progressive. They still glare at me and Hunk for being ‘foreigners’ when we grew up in this town! They call Matt queer because he has longer hair. They sometimes _spit_ at Sheriff Takashi’s assistant because he’s temporarily staying at his house. Hunk still gets called Dark Chocolate behind his back.” Lotor took a break to sigh. “Look – me, Matt and Hunk know you well enough... m _ay_ be we can put a team together. But don’t count on it, love.”

Hunk smiled, his round cheeks bobbing in that cute Hunk way. “Don’t worry, me and Matt have things down pat!”

Matt was the only one who laughed. He stood and put a hand on both Hunk and Allura’s shoulders. “He’s right. We’ll find your anomaly for ya. Speaking of anomalies, Pidge cut her hair real short yesterday. I mean, it looks nice, but it sticks out everywhere!”

Hunk laughed. His cheeks bobbed again. “Your sister is so sweet, aw, tell her I say hello!”

“I would, but the little gremlin nearly chewed my finger off last time we communicated.”

Matt and Hunk started down the hallway talking animatedly about Katie Holt, more fondly known as Pidge. Allura sighed and turned her striking blue eyes onto her husband.

“I know I sound like a drama queen, Lo, but this is serious. Something in this town has stopped here... something that shouldn’t.”

Allura leaned in real close to Lotor’s face.

“Something like _Sofia McClain_.” 


	4. a bonding moment, if you will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith and lance *bond*  
> takashi and adam talk at the office  
> allura pinpoints the anomaly (lance)  
> there is a fist fight, a knife is involved  
> *minor homophobic language, homophobia in general, KNIFE AND BLOOD WARNING (GORE)*  
> (I'm sorry that Nyma and Rolo are always bad guys but they were the only characters I could think of!)

***BLOOD, KNIFE AND HOMOPHOBIA WARNING!!!***

_Lance has a dream about very mismatched things._

_He’s not calling it a vision because the image in front of him makes no sense. He knows this because he’s him, nineteen-year-old Lance, and he’s in the arms of his father._

_There are strangers all around him, circling him. Their faces aren’t hostile – they’re full of emotion. He looks from a round, tall man in a police uniform wearing a bandana, a man next to him, bright orange hair flaring around his face. They’re both smiling at Lance, as if they’re proud. There’s a smaller boy next to them with the same startling hair, taking off his glasses and tenderly wiping his eyes. There is a girl, too – dark with startling blue eyes and brown hair streaked with silvery-grey. There’s a boy next to him, holding her hand – his eyes are closed and his head is bowed, his brown and silvery hair on display. There are others... smoky figures wearing formal-ish clothes, one has glasses, the other has striking white hair. Then his eyes turn to the clearest figure in the dream._

_His father’s grip tightens on his shoulders and he whispers something, but Lance’s eyes are locked on the boy in front of him._

_The boy has a scar running from his jaw to inches from his right eye. His eyes are bright and they seem almost purple, glinting in the light. His face is angled and sharp, he seems strong. His dark, long hair was windswept and it looked like it was soft. He was sporting an expression Lance didn’t quite understand. His eyebrows were drawn together, his lips curved into a sweet smile. His eyes filled with a fondness, a feeling Lance couldn’t quite place._

_Then the boy mouths, “I love you too, moron.”_

_Then Lance-_

Then he wakes up, gasping and shooting upright. There’s a crash next to him, and he looks on the floor to see _the boy._ There are some things different... he doesn’t have a scar and his hair is a bit shorter but everything else is _the exact same and maybe it was a vision after all._

The boy sat up, rubbing his head and picking up a cloth that he had landed on. He looked up and glared darkly at Lance. “Seriously?! I’m trying to help you, and you have to wake up out of nowhere, and I have to hit my head.”

The boy – Lance needed to learn his name now because ‘the boy’ wouldn’t be a good long term nickname – pushed Lance forcefully back down onto the couch, slapping the cloth onto Lance’s forehead. He then started to pace.

“Okay, I ran you over, sure, whatever, but normal people don’t _faint in the middle of the road_ after _waking up_!”

Lance watched with hesitant eyes, his anger bubbling.

“I thought you died or something. Oh, what would Shiro say then. ‘Good job, Keith! You’ve done it again! First you drop out like the total _failure_ you do and now you _run over_ someone and _kill them!_ Well fucking done!”

The boy – presumably Keith – stopped pacing and turned to glare daggers at Lance.

“You’re such a wimp. Couldn’t you have walked it off or something?! Now I’m probably in trouble and it’s all your stupid fault!”

Lance sat up then, scoffing. “I’m sorry, _what?!_ Last time I checked, you ran into _me!_ Also what is with your hair! It’s the 90’s, mullets are meant to be going out of fashion!”

Keith somehow glared harder. “Don’t insult me, _wimp!_ You’re the reason we’re here in the first place! Now I have a stranger in my house! Oh my god this is a mess.”

Lance felt his anger bubbling over the edge. He snapped.

“Well, sorry okay! Sorry I was trying to get back home because I’m here for my mum and she won’t tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to be _doing_ here! She’s left me on my own, and I’m in trouble, real trouble because I can’t get home for a while, I know, I just... I just know, okay? I’m sorry you ran over me.”

Lance huffed and flopped onto the couch. He couldn’t help the tear that fell from his eye. This really wasn’t ideal. He knew his opportunity to go home had shifted, the window had closed, and he didn’t know when it would open again. It was terrifying. He was literally stuck in the past for the foreseeable future. He stiffened. He had basically just poured his heart out to a stranger. He could’ve just completely given his secret away just like that. He felt sick.

Keith sighed and moved to sit on his coffee table facing Lance. Looking up slowly, Lance was met with regretful, soft eyes.

“I’m sorry I yelled. The truth is, if I slip up even slightly, my brother wouldn’t know how to cope. I’ve always been quick to act, and defensive straight away, and it gets me in trouble. My brother’s looked after me ever since he took me in... his... family, took me in. I don’t know what type of trouble you’re in, but you don’t seem too scary... or overly... bad.” Keith offered a small smile. Lance wondered if he smiled often. He didn’t seem to have a single laugh line near his mouth at all. Huh. Weird.

“So, why don’t you tell me what trouble you’re in, and who you are, yadda yadda, and maybe I can help you. Are you in trouble with police? Family?”

Lance realised in that moment that even though he had shown a vulnerable side in a different timeline, he hadn’t given himself away. In fact, he’d given himself the perfect cover story. And, not to brag but, Lance was an excellent actor and drama queen.

“Family,” he said, bowing his head and saddening his voice. “My mum she... cut ties with my father a while back and he was never too happy about it. My mother mysteriously died just yesterday. In... in her will she told me I had to finish her business and right some wrongs. The problem is...” Lance sighed a real sigh, looking up at Keith, who just moments ago was yelling at him. But something about him was welcoming, nice, even. It was as if he knew Keith, he trusted him. “She hasn’t told me what to _do._ And my family, my... my _dad,_ they’re home somewhere, in my past and... I can’t go back. I’m stuck here.”

He felt himself crack. He was breaking, genuinely falling apart, tears falling down his cheeks as he laid his head back and sunk further into the couch. He stared at the ceiling. He realised just how close to the truth his story was. He was being stupid, giving so much away. His mother always told him to be careful when he was timeline jumping. If she was here right now she’d silently shake her head, staring at him with eyes that were steel grey, staring right into the truth.

He heard Keith shift slightly.

“Look, ...”

“Lance,” he supplied.

“Lance,” Keith murmured back, and Lance tilted his head to see Keith offer another small, tender smile. “Let’s start over. I’m Keith Kogane. I’m nineteen and, as you’ve probably gathered, I’m a little stupid sometimes. I shouldn’t have blamed you for my mistake... that’s what got me where I am, deflecting blame. If you need help... maybe even a friend... I can help. But we need to get to know each other first. I might be impulsive, but I’m not opening myself to a complete stranger.”

“Seems fair,” Lance mumbled, and Keith chuckled slightly, softly. Why was he being so nice?

“Because life isn’t fair on people like us, I guess,” Keith murmured, and Lance realised he’d said what he was thinking aloud.

“Well, thank you, Keith Kogane. Um, how about this. I’ll pay for us to get food or something, lunch maybe? And I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Keith nodded, satisfied. “Well, Lance, how does pizza sound?”

~

“Keith still hasn’t come in?” Takashi Shirogane asked.

Matt Holt shook his head, looking unconcerned. “Nope, he hasn’t. I wouldn’t worry, Shiro, he’s probably just taking the day off. If you’re really worried, me and Hunk can go check his house, break in, all police officer guns blazin’.”

“No need, you idiot,” Takashi responded with a grin. “But you and Hunk need to check up on Mr. McClain – you know today is the anniversary of the disappearance.”

Matt’s face fell. “Yeah... will do, boss.”

Takashi’s face had also darkened.

“Make sure to bring Hunk with you.”

Takashi and Matt turned to see Adam leaning against the doorframe.

“Matias... he lost his whole family. The wife, _three kids..._ they’ve been missing for months now. Hunk will be able to deliver the news softer than you, Matt, uh, no offense.”

Matt nodded and Takashi smiled gratefully up at his partner.

“Will do, boss number two,” Matt said with a wink, leaving the office and closing the door behind him. Adam moved to sit down across from Takashi.

“Sorry about before,” Takashi mumbled, turning back to his paperwork. “You know I love you, but you know we’d both get fired if people have any evidence against us.”

“I know, Takashi, okay? I know, I just...” Adam sighed and look down at his lap. His voice was defeated, scared almost. “I just wish we didn’t have to hide from everyone. I wish we didn’t have to pretend we hate each other just so people won’t accuse us. I wish we didn’t have to do _anything like that._ Takashi I... I wish I could love you without having to do all these extra things. It’s not fair.”

Takashi looked up just in time to see a tear fall from Adam’s cheek. He felt the urge to hug his boyfriend course through him. It took everything he had not to reach out and touch his face, to soothe the worry contorting his brows, the pain forcing tears from his eyes.

“One day,” Takashi murmured, touching Adam’s leg lightly under the desk with his own, “I’m going to propose to you, and we can have the beach wedding you talk about, all your family can go. We can have it in Hawaii, just like you want. I promise I’ll give it all to you, Adam. Because...”

He nudged his leg a little harder. Adam looked up, his face slightly softer, his eyes no longer filled with tears he had a little smile curving his lips. Takashi’s heart soared.

“Because you mean everything to me. Even though you’re so, so grumpy.”

Adam laughed smiling warmly. “You suck.”

Takashi winked, making Adam laugh harder. “You bet I do, baby.”

“Okay, back to work, Takashi. Oh, that’s right, you don’t do any! You give all your stupid papers to me.”

Takashi grinned as Adam stood, opening the door. “you bet your ass I do.”

The door shut and felt the weight lift from his shoulders. It felt good.

~

Lance found himself sitting in front of a beautiful stranger – who wasn’t _really_ a stranger – and a huge half pepperoni half Hawaiian pizza. It should’ve been awkward, after the brief fight and the awkward apology, but Lance found himself more comfortable than he’d been in days. He found it easy to laugh at Keith’s dry sarcasm and serious expressions. He tried to pin it on the fact that he was just happy to have a friend, but he knew it was more than that. The dream from mere hours ago. And the visions he’d been having since he was nine. He knew the two weren’t coincidences, and he knew the boy in front of him – _Keith_ – he meant something. Something big, meaningful. Lance was trying to push the thoughts aside but the more he looked at Keith and laughed with him and ate, he felt like this is where he _belonged._ Which was very unusual and strange, considering the circumstances.

“So... where are you from?” Lance asked, trying to distract his brain.

“Around here,” Keith said, his smile fading. “I was born in Texas, but I moved here with a new family after my parents passed in a fire.”

“Oh, shit,” Lance said, eyes wide, studying Keith with concern. “I shouldn’t have asked, man, I”-

“No, no, don’t feel sorry for me,” Keith mumbled, looking up and forcing a laugh, “I don’t even remember them, and after a... while... I found my brother, and the right family for me.”

Lance smiled sadly. “The situation... sucks. But I’m glad you found your brother. Family... it’s everything.”

Lance felt his mood shift sourly. Did everything have to lead back to his family? To his mother?

Keith seemed to notice the change (Lance never had a good poker face) and quickly cleared his throat.

“So, um, where are you from?”

“Cuba,” Lance grinned, his mood improving rapidly at the thought of sparkling beaches and the dry days in the sun. “I moved close to here with my mother when I was three.”

“Cool!” Keith smiled, and Lance loved how utterly sincere it was. It was new and refreshing.

The two continued talking, Keith sharing his life, his fears, his favourite colour – _red, just like his motorcycle and the hair tie barely holding back his unruly hair_ – everything about him. And Lance listened, taking him in: his violet-grey eyes, his cute button nose, his fair skin and barely visible freckles lightly dotting his cheels. And his cute, pink, pouty, perfect lips, that, no matter how hard he tried, Lance couldn’t stop glancing at as Keith talked.

Both were so engrossed in each other that they didn’t see the people staring at them through the window with hateful glares

~

Allura sat on her couch, eyes closed.

She seemed like she was meditating, but really she was searching through the town for the... the _problem._

So many minds. None particularly amazing, none particularly... special. She could separate her friends from the others – Shiro’s mind radiating dark purple, Pidge’s green, Matt’s brown, Hunk’s yellow, Lotor’s violet and finally... Keith’s – dark, crimson red.

The next mind took her breath away. She sat up straighter, her brows furrowing as she took in the sight.

The aura was deep blue, almost normal, except for the rainbow shards that splintered it, trapping it in shocking light. It was far from normal, far from easy or expected. And whoever _it_ was... it was near Keith.

It was going to _hurt_ Keith.

Just like Sofia McClain had hurt her husband, leaving a gaping hole in her wake.

Allura opened her eyes, standing up from her spot with new found urgency.

“Bye, Uncle Coran!” she called as she slammed the door behind her, hurrying to get to Keith, to save him from the... the _abomination clinging to him._

Coran slowly turned his head, twisting in his wheelchair that had been facing the window, looking out at the garden. He sighed and smiled, eyes sad.

“My girl,” he mumbled, scoffing a laugh, “she never learns to discern right from wrong.”

~

Lance stood semi-awkwardly at Keith’s side. He knew this was around the time a normal person would say goodbye, but a certain part of him felt entwined with Keith – as if he was what was missing from his life, and now he had found him, ripping him away again felt physically painful. Lance stared at his shoes. Plain and white – the pair had cost him a mere $5 at Target. It was a minimalistic design, plain white laces and – _ok what the fuck, Lance, just look up and say goodbye!_

Lance slowly lifted his eyes to see Keith was already looking at him with a thoughtful gaze.

“I feel like I already know you better than I know most of my friends,” Keith mumbled, grinning.

Lance couldn’t help feeling the same. Everything about Keith was just so... inviting. His smile, his clothes, even his weird fingerless gloves. It felt as if they were perfect in this moment, together. Lance felt himself blush. He was being way too cheesy.

“I know, it’s... different,” Lance replied, flashing a quick, shy smile.

“If you need me, uh... you know my address.”

“For sure.”

Just as Keith was walking away, Lance reached out and grabbed his wrist. Keith turned, startled.

“Thank you, Keith. For, um, you know...”

“Running you over?”

Lance usually would’ve giggled, but something about this moment felt serious. He smiled wider, trying to show his gratefulness through his expression.

“For talking, for actually caring. You’re something special, Kogane.”

And with that, Lance let go of Keith’s wrist, flashed one last smile, and started down the street.

He didn’t really know where he was headed, but he knew he needed food, and a new hotel to check into. Lance decided the best place to start was the supermart, trying to decide what to make for dinner. Spaghetti was quick... easy. But not exactly his favourite. Lasagne would take longer to cook and way more cheese, but in the end it was worth-

He felt someone tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a girl wearing striking pink lipstick chewing gum and twirling her hair that was tied up in two ponytails. The girl had her head tilted, a smirk on her lips, her red fingernails still lightly tapping his shoulder. He felt a sense of unease settle in his stomach.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” she said with an exaggerated wink. “look, my car broke down, think you can help me?”

Lance didn’t like this one bit, but he wasn’t a total asshole. And he couldn’t blame the girl for being flirtatious – when Lance was a little younger he was known for using ridiculous pick-up lines and hitting on people way out of his league. Besides, why wouldn’t he help her?

“Uh, sure, I can help a little”-

“Great!” she was pulling Lance’s arm before he could even finish his sentence.

The girl kept leading him around corners and alleyways until they reached a side alley that was barely lit by a flickering light ahead. Tarp was placed between the two buildings above them, surrounding him and the girl in shadow.

“So, um, where is your car?” Lance was catching on that this was fishy, but decided to play along a little longer to see what the girl’s motives were.

“You’ll see... eventually.”

They stood there for several moments before Lance spoke.

“Look, I’m gonna go. I don’t know what you were expecting to do, or if you think I’m dense, but I’m not stupid. Or into anything... gross.”

Lance turned but stopped abruptly when he came face to face with a boy around his age with big eye bags and long dreadlocks.

“What were you doing with Keith Kogane?” he growled, grabbing fistfuls of Lance’s shirt.

~

Keith didn’t like this way home.

He had decided to walk to the restaurant with Lance – he only had one helmet, plus he wanted to know more about the gorgeous blue-eyed boy, and walking gave them more time to talk – but he forgot all of the creepy alley ways he had to pass to get home quicker.

_Maybe I should turn back, go the other way. These side streets give me the creeps._

Then he heard it.

Cries, and the hard sound of a fist meeting skin. Screams of various words, but Keith heard one in particular, one that mad his blood boil.

_Fag._

He ran towards the noise, the yelps, the sobs. The closer he got, the angrier he became.

“ _Fag!”_

_“Queer!”_

_“Scum!”_

_“You and Kogane are perfect for each other!”_

Keith froze, ice cold fear trickling down his spine. In that moment he was sure of three things.

  * Metres away from him, Lance, the boy he had met just that day, was definitely being beaten up
  * The person that was beating him was none other than Rolo Smith, the boy who had gotten him suspended from school and practically kicked out
  * Keith was about to kick some serious ass.



Sprinting forward, he skidded into the small alleyway, dark and creepy. There, he saw Rolo kicking Lance in the stomach over and over. Lance himself was doubled over, blood dripping from his nose, his face screwed up as he let out another pained yelp. Nyma, Rolo’s girlfriend, stood next to them clapping and squealing happily.

“Get the fuck off him, Rolo, or I swear to God I will end your shitty existence!”

Everyone looked up at Keith, Lance with a look of hope, Nyma of shock and Rolo of anger.

“Look here, _fag!_ It’s your queer boyfriend, here to suck you off till you feel better!” he delivered a swift kick to Lance’s jaw before turning to Keith. “Hey, Keith. Here to get revenge?”

“Rolo, I thought you would have learnt your lesson last time.” He tried to keep his tone level, to not let his temper take over... yet.

“You know I’m a bit thick in the head, Kogane. I never learn.”

“Well you’re about to.”

And Keith lunged for Rolo’s throat, momentarily choking him and plummeting them both to the ground. Rolo groaned as his head smacked against the cement, glaring up at Keith, who was sitting atop him with a triumphant grin. Rolo growled before punching him to the side of his head. Keith let his eyes slip closed, taking the pain and feeding on it.

“You’ll regret that, Smith.” He opened his eyes, glaring daggers.

Rolo smirked, raising his eyebrows as if to say ‘you sure about that?’

And just as Keith lifted his arm to deliver a fatal swing, Rolo’s hand reached swiftly into his pocket and held up a pocket knife, digging it into the skin just under Keith’s right eye at a record speed. Keith yelped and flinched, accidentally leading the knife down his face all the way to the jaw as he fell, scrambling away from the monster before him. Rolo wobbled before standing, grinning evilly at Keith who was pressing a hand to his bleeding wound.

“Not so tough now, huh Queer? That’s right. You deserve this, fag. Don’t you get it?! You’re not getting kicked out of our school because you’re a behaviour issue. It’s because you’re not like us. You’re disgusting!”

And then Rolo was falling. He hit the pavement _hard,_ his head making a loud _crack_ and after a moment it became clear he wasn’t getting back up anytime soon. Keith looked up to see Lance, bloodied and bruised, his lip split, rubbing his knuckles. He had knocked Rolo out cold.

~

Matt knocked on the big wooden door, the same wooden door he and Hunk had been knocking on this time every month for twelve months. It made him sad, knowing that this broken man would most likely never have closure about his family and where they all went. They had left him behind, a ghost of a man living in a too big house. Matt felt tears brew in his eyes.

Then he felt a big, warm hand clasp his shoulder, and his heart fluttered. He looked up to see Hunk, his best friend and secret crush, smiling sweetly at him, squeezing his shoulder lightly. He knew what he was trying to say.

_Everything will work out in the end._

The door opened and Hunk immediately moved his hand off of Matt’s shoulder. The two awkwardly smiled up at Matias McClain, a spindly man who seemed to be about 20 years older than he actually was.

“Officers,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. His hair had a lot more grey in it this month – he looked very old for a mere 30-year-old. His hair was completely dishevelled, his clothes wrinkled. The aroma escaping the house was not exactly a good one, and Matt had to fight the urge to pinch his nose and gag. It was in everything – the house, his face, his clothes, his _eyes_ – and everywhere, the sickening truth. He hadn’t gotten over his wife, his kids, his _family._ Everything he loved was gone. Matt felt tears return to his eyes and tried his hardest to blink them away.

“Hi, Mr McClain,” Hunk started, his voice soft and soothing. That was one of Matt’s favourite things about Hunk – he could talk anyone into anything with his relaxing voice. He was so soft like that – he found sympathy and understanding in any situation. He knew how to talk people off the edge.

“We are sorry to inform you we have found no leads on your family,” Hunk continued, and they watched as Matias slumped against the door frame, eyes closing as a sob wracked his body.

“Sir, we promise we have been looking, searching every single day,” Matt contributed, his tone full of sorrow, “but we can’t find _anything._ We’ve got state police involved, everybody is looking. But it’s as if your wife... your kids they... they’ve disappeared into thin air.”

Matias continued to sob, and Hunk reached forward, reassuring the man with a light squeeze to the shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean we’re stopping, sir. We will continue to look, to search, for as long as we can, as hard as we can. We’re going to keep trying to bring your family back to you. That’s a promise.”

Matias opened his eyes then, smiling gratefully through his tears. “Thank you both. For everything you’ve done and tried this past year. I know they’re out there still. I... I can _feel_ it.” He prodded his chest to emphasise his point. “I believe in you both.”

With that, he gave one last broken smile to them both and closed his door.

Matt tried to drown out the sobs he could hear as he slowly walked away.

~

The front door to Keith Kogane’s house was thrown open as two teenage men stumbled in. Keith was dazed and couldn’t see straight – he was sure his loss of blood probably had something to do with it. Lance had offered to take him to the hospital, but they freaked Keith out so badly that in his drunken-like state he had refused to walk until Lance had promised they weren’t going to the hospital, but instead back to his house.

Lance flopped Keith down on the couch and ran through Keith’s house, searching for something.

Keith wondered what he was looking for in a haze. He couldn’t think properly, he decided. Ideas would form, then disperse as soon as they had fully come together. His thoughts were scattered; his brain was mush. If only he could close his eyes...

“Uh-uh, Mullet, eyes open for me,” Lance spoke, slapping Keith’s knee lightly until his eyes were fully open again.

“Oww,” he mumbled, and Lance chuckled slightly. Keith looked down to see what Lance had been looking for – a first aid kit, filled with gauzes, patches and a needle and thread for emergencies. There was rubbing alcohol too, but Keith prayed that Lance wouldn’t use the stinging substance on his face.

“Sorry, buddy, but we don’t know what was on that weirdo’s knife. We gotta make sure you don’t die from infections.”

He had said that aloud? Whoops.

Keith groaned, bracing himself for the cool cloth that was inches from his face. When it made contact, he winced, yelping and trying to move as Lance slowly rubbed the cloth against the wound.

“Oh, shut up, Kogane. Do you wanna die? Huh?”

Keith looked up at Lance. Lance the stranger. Lance the guy Keith felt comfortable around, despite only meeting him hours ago. Lance, the guy that was taking care of him, despite only knowing him for not even a day.

Keith was out of it, but he knew his cheeks were burning.

“Noo,” he murmured, keeping his eyes trained on Lance’s. was Lance medically trained? Seemed like it. His eyes really were blue, huh? His lips still look nice, even though one is split, and blood is slowly oozing from it, dripping down onto his pants. That’s not a good thing, right?

“Your lip...”

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it up after I stitch this thing closed,” Lance muttered, taking the cloth away and smiling down at Keith. “This is gonna hurt a little, okay? So just put your hand on my knee...”

Lance guided Keith’s hand to his tanned knee, making sure it was clasped tight.

“...and squeeze it until the pain is gone. Got it, Mullet?”

Keith nodded, staring down at Lance’s knee. Who has freckles on their _knee?_

Lance, apparently.

He tried to count them.

It did hurt.

A lot.

~

Lance sighed at the boy across from him. Keith had promptly passed out after taking some pain meds (he’d been out for about an hour). His wound had been successfully stitched and patched – Lance was pretty proud of his handiwork – and he was safe in his home, away from that... person. Lance was still confused by the whole situation. Who was this Rolo guy? Why had he sent that girl to trick Lance? Why had he beaten Lance up?

And why did it all come back to Keith?

Lance sighed and closed his eyes, bending over in his chair. He winced and closed his eyes at the pain that coursed through his abdomen, reminding him of the multiple punches and kicks that had been delivered to the area. A light tapping sound reeled him back in, opening his eyes to see a bright pool of blood slowly forming. He reached up – his lip was still bleeding. He sighed, exhausted and irritated.

“Let me help.”

Lance looked up to see a groggy Keith smiling slightly at him.

“Um... with what?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Lance. We met this morning because I ran you over with my motorcycle. I then yelled at you because I ran you over with my motorcycle. Then, I tried to make up for it at lunch, but then you literally got beaten up because of me. And then, you took me home and took care of me. You’re a really good person. So let me help? I need to repay you even a little. So let me help you? You got hurt pretty bad, too.”

Lance flushed dark red. Nobody had ever really said that to him before. He was always just Lance – just there for laughs, the goofball. But it was like Keith was opening his eyes. Keith saw him as important and helpful and... good.

Lance smiled, then immediately grimaced at the pain in his lip. Keith reached forward, grabbing a new tissue and coating it with rubbing alcohol.

“Sorry if this hurts,” he muttered, before lightly gripping Lance’s chin and tilting his head so he could lightly touch the cut with the tissue.

Lance flinched at first and Keith apologised again before swiping the cut a couple more times, as light as a feather. Lance kept his eyes trained on Keith – the cleft that appeared between his brows when he was concentrating, the way he bit his lip and kept his eyes locked on Lance’s mouth. It felt... different to be taken care of, in a really good way.

Keith reached next to Lance to shuffle through the first aid kit before pulling out a tiny gauze. He lightly peeled off the backing and took hold of Lance’s chin again, positioning the gauze onto the cut with perfect precision.

“All done,” Keith said with a tired smile, inspecting the rest of Lance’s face. He picked up the tissue again, rubbing slowly under Lance’s nose to wipe the dry blood, then stood up, walking over to his fridge and handing Lance an ice pack. He sat back down on the couch after that, looking tired and worn down.

“...Keith,” Lance mumbled, inspecting his face curiously yet timidly, “why did Rolo come after me because I was with you? And – if this is too personal, you don’t have to tell me but – what did he mean about you getting kicked out because you’re different?”

It was obvious Keith was having an internal struggle. His brows furrowed and his gaze shifted uncomfortably from Lance’s leg to the floor and back before he heaved a huge sigh.

“About a month ago, Rolo approached me at school and started a fight, calling me all sorts of names... fag, queer, scum... the usual. I hit him again and again and again until the office staff pulled me away. I was suspended for ten days and I nearly got expelled. My exclusion is still up for debate... mostly because I haven’t gone back to school. I already had to repeat because of behavioural problems... I don’t want to have to do it again. Besides, I...”

Keith huffed and looked up at Lance wearily. “I can’t face the kids at my school. What would I even say? I wouldn’t tell them what Rolo said isn’t true because it _is._ I’m gay. That’s why he came after you when we were together at lunch. And I’m sorry if this freaks you out just... please don’t hate me.”

Lance smiled at Keith sympathetically. Keith was slightly shocked at how... fine Lance’s reaction was. For a moment there was silence. Then...

“I don’t hate you. I know exactly how you feel. I’ve been closeted for ages. For a while I thought about coming out as just gay – you know, rip the Band-Aid off, that way nobody can call me a fake. But I can’t change the fact that I like girls. And I don’t know what the future holds or who I love... could be a girl or a boy. And how do I explain that to my family? It’s so intricate and hard to explain and understand. So I totally get you, because... because I’m bisexual.”

Keith stared at Lance for a long time. Then, slowly, he stood.

Then he offered Lance a hand.

Lance stood, holding Keith’s hand until he was upright.

Keith smiled, a little hesitant, a little unsure, a little hopeful.

Lance smiled back at the perfect stranger before him.

And then Keith was enveloping him in a warm, steady hug, his head pressed against Lance’s chest.

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith, closing his eyes.

He’d never told anyone this before.

He decided that travelling to 1991 did have its perks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is now a playlist for this story, on  
> \- spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/ren_ready23/playlist/38BrIum8XwmAd3QQFT8DdQ?si=qH7D_R5JS8uzpe_w7A46Lg  
> \- apple music: https://itunes.apple.com/profile/ren_ready_ (just search up 'i took a trip to the year ****' once on my profile)  
> If you want to just look it up on your phone, the playlist is called 'i took a trip to the year ****' (...obviously)  
> FOLLOW MY SOCIAL MEDIA FOR REGULAR UPDATES AND ME SCREAMING  
> -Instagram: @waaavyyyy8  
> -Twitter: @renmakenzie  
> Thank you, please don't forget to leave kudos!


End file.
